Desert Bound

Hello from a bus heading to Be'er Sheva!  There is WIFI on the bus making posting on my blog an option!  So welcome to the seat of the action - the bus smells slightly like a gym locker, so trust me, it's not glamorous!  

The blue dot represents where I currently am, the red dot is where I'm going!

I'm bound for the desert, by means of Be'er Sheva, only one stop on my route to Shivta, where I'm joining an archaeological expedition from Haifa University excavating the ruins of a Byzantine settlement that collapsed around 1,500 years ago. 

Indiana Jones may have piqued a lifelong curiosity in all things dusty and ancient in me, so when the opportunity to join the excavation as a volunteer presented itself, I found a way to make it happen. 

Once I've arrived in Be'er Sheva, I catch another bus that beelines into the Negev desert.  The bus will likely be just me and a bunch of military personal, because the only other thing in the desert besides Byzantine ruins, is an army base.  So this has the makings to be a really unique and interesting experience!  

For the next few days, I'll be working from dawn to dusk in the Negev desert.  Despite my delusions of Indiana Jones themed grandeur, I doubt there will be many treasure maps and Xs marking the spots.  It's going to be hard work and long days, but I'm excited for the chance to experience something I've always dreamed of doing! 

Land of Milk, Honey and Whobasa

One of the many creative spellings of Neve Eitan

For the past 19 days I've been calling Neve Eitan and the Local Center for Health and Community my home.  It filled my days up with new flavors, alternative ways of thinking and lifestyle options I had never considered.  

If you had told me six months ago that I'd be living at the border edges of Israel, working at a small local community center and living communally, I'd have probably have laughed my ass off.  The person I was six months ago habituated Starbucks soy lattes and would plan a weekend around Lululemon sales.  I navigated farmers markets and got my organic vegetables from farm stands and CSA  (Community Supported Agriculture) shares.  These foodways existed as reliable solids in my life and my access to them happened automatically, almost without thought.  I had no relationship of my own with the origins of my food and I never wondered what would happen if these things suddenly disappeared or were challenged.  

Homegrown broccoli from the LCHC gardens

So when it did, it sent me down the rabbit hole.  I needed to work from the ground up to understand my relationship with food and its effect on a balanced lifestyle.  I found myself drawn to a small kibbutz on the fringes of Israel, where I amazingly had the chance to study and learn from a world recognized expert, Uri Mayer-Chissick on wild edible plants in the Levant, fermentation and living a nutritionally balanced life.  

So after 19 days here, I can walk through a field and recognize whobasa, silpad and dillion, collect them if I wanted (wearing thick gloves for the silpad!) and make a stir fry out of them; I can ferment cabbage and lemons and understand the biological environment needed to make that chemical transformation take place; I've weeded gardens, watched broccoli and radishes grow and most importantly spent time with the wonderful people who add personality and warmth to LCHC and Neve Eitan. 

Stir fry of whobasa, silpad and onions

I've become much more involved and aware of where my sustenance comes from.  It's an incredibly cathartic feeling to be able to understand your ingredients and the venerable traditions being incorporated into the flavors a dish provides.  I underwent no apotheosis to become an amazing cook, but I know a little bit more about the origins of my food, how to find ingredients at my doorstep and the benefits of using them.  My favorite seat in the house has always been the kitchen; I've found it very meditative to listen to the sizzle of a frying pan, smell the spiced aromas swirl around and feel the warmth and energy generated by a meal.  

I hope that I've done a good job relaying the experience and interactions I've had.  Hopefully you get the feeling that I've been very well taken care of, feel a part of a family and been living some where unexpectedly beautiful.  It's been amazing to learn everything I have in such a unpretentious and down to earth, little corner of the globe.  I was trying to come up with the words to sum it all up, so I went out on a run to try to see what would come to me.  It was between rainstorms and even in the middle of such rapidly changing weather, the scenery was breath taking.  As the saying goes, a picture speaks a thousand words, so I think that's the way to convey it!

Hello ladies! Kibbutz = working farm.  Probably one of the reasons I feel so at home here!

Typical view of the farm fields past Neve Eitan

The view looking towards the mountains of Jordan.

Coming storm over a field of whobasa 

My running path

Some of the many date groves in the area

The road I run down, with Jordan in the distance

A different evening, out on a run, pelicans migrating overhead

These pictures are pulled from a few different runs.  I could never make it through an entire hour's run without stopping to take a couple photos of what was around me.  Apparently I became a recognizable figure on the kibbutz while I was here - I was "that American who runs".  

I'm now on this really unexpected adventure that seems to be focused on the power of food and the way it intertwines our lives.  From Uri, I've learned just how nutrition can bring together a community and provide a chance to teach others and interact more with the world around you.  As I've been blogging about what I was experiencing, it's really amazing how many people seemed to respond and be curious about the information I am finding.  I'm not sure what I plan to do with it, but I'm excited and optimistic about all the possibilities.  If you're curious, many of the recipes will be available from Uri's webpage, so I encourage you to check it out and interact with them!  

Chocolate bar I made and then promptly ate all of it!

So now I'm packing up my large, semi-mobile bags and heading south from Neve Eitan.  To those who welcomed me, put food in my belly and treated me like family even though they knew nothing about me, thank you.  I don't know if you realized how much you healed me and gave me a community and a place to call home.  I'm happy to know that I can always return here, and I hope that one day you visit me in the States.  You always have a place to stay with me and I will try my best to provide you a healthy and tasty meal! 

And now to the open road - which in Israel, is actually not that open since there will likely be traffic - although my next adventure is taking me somewhere much more open, which I can't wait to tell you more about - TOMORROW!!!

Food for Thought

At the end of the summer of 1890, Claude Monet began an impressionist study of haystacks in fields of Giverny, France.  His flecks of colorful brushstrokes captured the changing angles of glinting sunlight on his subject in the morning, noon, and evening; in the summer, the fall, the winter and spring, in order to capture and represent how the same subject can take on a completely different look and feel depending on the sunlight.  

Monet's haystacks entered my mind this past weekend as I watched a sunset over the green hills of Harduf, in northeastern Israel.  The sun had passed beneath the mountains, but the light show had only just begun.  I was wrapped up in a warm sweater, with a mug of tea in hand against the chill and I watched the sky turn a vibrant, incandescent red and mute itself into a veil of deep, opulent lavender and I found myself reflecting on Monet's devotion and appreciation of the way light effects and landscape.  

For me, actually being in this location watching a sunset was quite surreal.  Two days earlier, I decided "what the hell", thrown a couple shirts in a backpack and joined the two Belgian filmmakers visiting us at Neve Eitan, on the road to Haifa.  The Belgians had been visiting Uri to make a documentary about wild edible plants and the connections they form between people in Israel, Jordan and the West Bank/Palestine. After 12 days of filming around Israel, they had gotten all the shots and interviews they needed, so now it was time for Ben to see a bit of the country and Jesse, to head home. 

As for myself, I was supposed to be attending a weekend retreat on Nonviolent Communication taking place at the Ecological House where I've been living.  I thought I'd make it back in time to participate the next morning, so we headed to Haifa for some sushi and beer before Jesse caught a train to Tel Aviv to for his flight and Ben and I stayed a night in a hostel in Haifa.    

Obviously, I wound up being completely wrong about making it back to Neve Eitan in time for Nonviolent Communicating.  Between technological malfunctions of two GPS devices and navigation based on guesswork, we didn't make it to the bus station and I joined Ben on the road to Harduf to visit some friends.  I have friends who live there too and had always wanted to visit, so it wasn't such a bad direction to be heading. 

Harduf is a community designed around the implementation of Anthropophy, a style of thought based on German philosopher Rudolf Steiner.  If you've ever visited a Waldorf school, then you're seeing Anthroposophy in action.  Arriving in Harduf is like making it to an island superimposed in Israel.  The entire society is dedicated to caring for each other, the earth and their neighbors.  There's a lot of cooperation between Harduf and its surrounding Arab neighbors.  

I met Ben's friends Nitsan and Lilach and their son Michael, then we all headed to a nearby Arab city, Shefar'am for hummus.  This was actually my first time visiting an Arab city, and I realized that I was actually a little nervous since so much time and energy has been spent not going to these places.  Everything turned out completely fine and we had some tasty hummus and strong Arab coffee.  

Wild, edible flowers in Harduf

Nitsan, Lilach and Michael took the two of us for a tour of the community where we saw the elementary school, high school and agricultural fields. Walking through fields with this group was a lot of fun.  Ben is a professional herbalist specializing in edible plants and running his own company for tours and catered meals in Belgium; Nitsan, Lilach and Michael are all practiced herbalists in the flora and fauna of the land around them.  So as we walked, someone would reach down and pick some shoots and leaves and say "Hey, you can eat this!" almost every yard.  

Nitsan, me, Michael and Lilach in front of a Harduf sunset

Really that's what it all comes down to: food and act of eating.  The ways in which we eat and drink together are an important aspect of being human and forming relationships.  These connections are so important, that the a transgression against it can be the motivation for nasty and brutish conflicts.  The Trojan War was partially caused by a breach in the traditions of breaking bread together and the guest-host relationship. When Paris kidnaps Helen from her husband Menelaus, Paris had been a guest in the house of Menelaus.  Ancient Greek society had very strict rules on the practice of hospitality and how the guest-host relationship was established surrounding the traditions of eating. A host welcomed his guest into his home in safety and did not ask his name or his purpose of visiting until after he had eaten and drank.  Once two people have supped together, they are bonded for life and do no harm to each other.  

Paris' infraction between the contract of sharing a meal together, caused a 10 year war and thousands of deaths, including his own.  So please, tip your waitress and think twice before you double-cross someone that you've had at your dinner table.

Food is such an amazing motivator, a force of interaction and experience. I used to say that I could tell if I'd be good friends with someone if they'd eat my mushrooms from my plate since they were not a food I liked. I am proud to announce that I have finally begun to eat them myself, so I'll have to find some other food based tell to determine friendships by. 

So many of my recent connections in Israel have been based around my desire to find like minded people who through eating and wanting to live a well balanced life.  My amazing travels and experiences from the past few weeks have all been possible because I had an inkling of a desire to find people who were knowledgeable and conscious about food.  It motivated me to find the Gilboa Cooperative and then lead me to Uri Mayer-Chissick's doorstep.  I've really made a community from all these different people who strive to eat better and live balanced lives.  Its given me the ability to travel to new cities, meet new people and feel welcomed at the dinner table. It's really driven me to places I never thought I could go for my own diet and lifestyle. 

Sunset in Harduf

Over the past weeks, I've been eating a predominately processed sugar-free, and whole wheat diet and I can honestly say that I feel pretty amazing. Not only does my body feel very strong and efficient, but I've felt able to trust myself and be open to new experiences. I've been having an adventure that I only dreamed of and thought was impossible for me. I didn't think I was brave, assertive, or capable enough to pull off this kind of independence and undertaking. But doors have opened and I walked through them.  I'm not going to lie, I've been having fun!  I can't remember the last time my lifestyle was devoted to conscious enjoyment of life. 

As I watched the light change on the landscape in Harduf, I reflected over food being a deus ex machina of good things in my life.  Eating is more than just a stimulation of your taste buds, mastication and the digestive process in order to fuel the body.  It does that and more; it's a whole body and mind experience that involves all of the senses being utilized. It can bring back memories, or create certain feelings inside you.  It can change your whole mindset and outlook on the world.

The Spice of Life

My day at the Local Center for Health and Community* typically starts with some almond milk, possibly chocolate almond milk, or a green smoothie made from freshly foraged plants around Kibbutz Neve Eitan. I like to think of it as hippie bottle service. Inevitably, someone will ask me if I'm hungry  and the answer is always a resounding "yes", even if I'm not because I'm full of chocolate almond milk.  Whatever is being cooked on the stove top or in the oven I will want to eat.  

From there, the path diverges, and I can't predict what route it's going to take.  I might be chopping up 20 cabbages for fermenting, or cataloging research articles, writing, weeding, stocking, or greeting a Belgian film crew making a documentary on foraging. No matter what I'm doing, I feel utilized and a part of something important. 

What is certain is that the day will be filled with wonder.  JRR Tolkien (a favorite of mine) wrote about the importance of leading a life filled with "childlike wonder" and delight.  I feel that each day here really channels that concept.  Actions that I would've regarded as mundane and routine, leave this realm and feel more extraordinary, like they've undergone a metamorphosis and emerged as the gateway to new knowledge.  Diced lemons and a little bit of salt leads to the magical process of chemical fermentation and the creation of a whole new substance and flavor. New worlds of tastes open up and my grasp on what spices and ingredients can do is challenged and reestablished daily.

My favorite sentence that I hear is "lunch will be ready soon" and I know it's going to be a wholesome serving of transcendental cuisine that will push the limits of reality and my definition of food and how I eat.

Homemade whole wheat fettucini with vegetables and cashew cream

Uri is a genius in the kitchen - I've heard some people use the expression "the ingredients really speak to me" and I imagine Uri must be communing and directing an intermingling of flavors that fuse together in such succinct harmony. The ingredients used in Uri's kitchen are all fresh, come from local sources and are in their most basic form you can find them in. Salt is from Eilat and is untreated by an anti-caking ingredient that is in most salt to make the crystals all evenly the same size; greens are gathered from fields around the area; turmeric is ground from roots unearthed in the garden outside and olive oil is from an ancient grove in the north.  

The recipes that Uri uses come from a lifelong study and search for the lost lore of ancient traditions, seasoning and aromas passed through ancient sources and antiquity. Uri sees beauty in everything around him and draws a lot of inspiration from the nature that he surrounds himself with, which is responsible for the full-fledged flavor of his food.  The methods he uses to cook are elements that ancient cultures recognized as good for the body and leading a healthy lifestyle. The processing and metallic taste of mass produced ingredients and food is stripped away, so all that remains is the pure, wholesome flavor and nutrition of Uri's cooking.  He's tapped into the truest potential in all of his flavor sources; the dishes he makes are simple and honest - salads, pasta, omelettes and stews, but I promise you, you've never tasted them like this.  

I have my mind blown regularly by what I get to eat and the amazing part is that it's so good to my taste buds, but also mutually beneficial to my gut and my body as a whole.  The diet I've been eating is for the most part vegan, no processed sugars, no creams, or bad fats, the grains are all whole and the bacteria in the bread helps my gut health.  I know this because Uri works with a microbiologist out of Tzfat, who has researched some of the bacteria in the the cultures of fermented foods from Uri's kitchen and discovered new bacteria that helps in the digestion of food.  

The entrance to the ecological house 

My days pass in Kibbutz Neve Eitan, where everything is in the leafy green flourish of winter vitality.  I live in the Ecological house which is home to around 4-7 Israelis in their late 20s or early 30s, who are all well-versed in baking up fresh loaves of bread and leading a sustainable existence.  It's refreshing to be around Israelis and completely immersed in their lifestyle. They're incredibly intelligent, open and insightful to talk with.  I haven't experienced anything like this in my five months in Israel and had I continued in my program, I would never had been lucky enough to have such a special experience like this.  

Garden and entrance to the humble abode of the LCHC

Over at the Local Center, I work with Tami and Hila - Uri's support system and earnest cooks in their own right.  Hila works with me teaching me how to make pastes,spreads, yogurts and almond milk.  Tami wields Uri's schedule, supplies structure and context for the work that we do.  They create an atmosphere of love, supportive, laughter and fresh baked bread and I always feel really honored to get to work with such motivating women.  

I'm a lone American in this place, but I feel more connected and part of a community than ever.  I'm encouraged to grow and ask questions from everyone around me and they're open to sharing their perspective and knowledge with me.  It's astounding that I've only been here for a week; the change in me is visceral - I'm relaxed, I smile more, I worry less and I dream more.  I don't regret that I left the constructs of my program for a moment because the freedom and happiness I'm finding here is genuine.  

Neve Eitan is located at the very edge of Israel and on a clear day, you can make out individual houses on the mountainsides in Jordan.  Birds dip and dive in the sky above grabbing a quick meal on their migration to Africa.  It's peaceful and you hardly notice the passing of time.  The beauty of the area is just stunning and hard to wrap your mind around.  At night, it's pitch black and jackals sing as I fall asleep before another anything but ordinary day at the Center.  

Bird migration viewing area between winter rainstorms

* We're in the process of trying to settle on an English name for the Center. Perhaps after reading this blog post, you have some ideas? Feel free to comment and share! - HS

Carpooling

Israel is small. It's roughly only 5,000km2 larger than Vermont. It's pretty easy to crisscross the country by bus, van, rental car, shirut (shared taxi van) and on occasion, catching rides with people heading the same direction that I am. 

For a country that's constantly trying to ensure its sustained existence, I've had an easy and optimistic time spent in transit. And I do spend a lot of time moving around the country - my boyfriend Ron lives near Tel Aviv, so I make the trek each weekend from Beit She'an south to Tel Aviv so I can spend time with him. This means that on a Thursday night I catch a bus from Beit She'an to a larger city in the east, Afula, where I catch another bus to Tel Aviv and Ron picks me up! It takes me around 2.5 hours to do the whole thing and no two trips are alike, depending on traffic, bus driver, passengers, time of day and weather. 

As is typical in Israel, if it rains, everything ceases to function. The country can figure out how to make flowers bloom in the desert, but is incapable of installing a sewer system. So rain means that everyone loses their minds, the traffic lights go out and radio stations fade off. But as long as it doesn't rain, it's business as usual and I can drift off into the meditative and relaxing ride and watch the Israeli landscape change from grassy rolling hills of the Galilee, to sandy dunes near the coast around Netanya.  

Each trip is really it's own adventure.  This past trip to Tel Aviv, I had just left my Beit She'an teaching gig and packed up all my things to disperse across Israel for the next month. So me, a giant suitcase and a backpack needed to navigate the buses to Tel Aviv, while a smaller suitcase and another backpack sojourned in Beit She'an waiting for my next, less weighed-down move.  

I made it the Afula bus station and as I was walking to the 825 bus to Tel Aviv, a man came up to me and asked if I wanted to take a shirut to Tel Aviv.  I looked at him suspiciously, but asked to know more and found it he was a legitimate shirut and charged 10 shekels less than the bus. So I followed him out of the bus station and to his van [having written that sentence, I can thoroughly see the sketchiness!] where he had several other people were heading to Tel Aviv as well.  One of my fellow passengers was an Israeli-Australian who spoke perfect, fluent English.  She and I began talking and realized that we had a lot in common, beginning with where I was planning on volunteering over the next couple of weeks with Uri Mayer-Chissick.  She happened to be a big fan of his, and her life in Melbourne, AU was devoted to eating very clean and learning more about leading a sustainable lifestyle.  So we spent the entire shirut ride talking about recipes, lectures on different topics and her studies to be a naturopath.  The whole ride completely flew by and I didn't even notice the landmarks passing by the window, since I was so enjoying conversation with her. It was amazing to be brought together with a kindred soul by the universal connectivity power of a slightly sketchy shirut.  

I've had other car pools where I've been impressed at the conversation and instant connection while I'm in transit.  One Thursday night, I was volunteering at the kibbutz cooperative before I made my journey to Tel Aviv.  After I finished my volunteer duties, I caught a ride from another cooperative member who was heading home towards Afula.  When you are in the habit of catching well-timed rides from whoever happens to be available in the moment, you have to fine-tune your talents of making pleasant car talk.  Alon and I had a nice conversation about his newborn baby and his music studios, as well as this really helpful discussion on following your heart to doing things that just feel more meaningful, which really helped me gain some understanding at the time.  

During a car ride, I have just a passing minutes to exchange some words with an individual.  I've found the Israelis I share the road with to be insightful and thoughtful people; very able up sum up something complex in a few simple, blunt words.  It's been really amazing to me in these moments to get a window into Israelis' lives and their view on the world. Many who I've talked to are really trying to find their happiness, care a lot about their families and if their job isn't fulfilling, they have a project or something that aligns more with their own personal beliefs.

The fact that everyone is so caring and concerned about helping me get where I need to go, does a good job in summing up the psyche of the country. There's a huge community cohesiveness in Israel; whether they're brought together by this "us against the world" mentality, or because their mutually shared military background fosters a feeling of brotherhood, that they open their car doors, homes and kitchens to anyone who is in need.  

There are always road bumps and pot holes along the road - the traffic in Tel Aviv is obscene. I've had to learn this lesson the hard way from Sunday morning drop-offs when Ron valiantly has to bring me to either the bus station, or a to a conference that has a start time against the laws of logic and gridlock.  It's a great time to learn how to swear in Hebrew and since Israeli driving technique seems be odds to the idea of lanes and lines, there's ample opportunity for me to learn these! (Sorry, Ron!) 
It should be noted that Ron is an intrepid driver; from years of figuring out how to drive tanks with ease, he's extreme adept at the wheel and I trust him, but it's the person in the other car that I really don't!

My favorite experience of car-culture based idiocy, was when I was headed home from the road trip to Jordan and Eilat. We stopped to get a tank of gas; as the car was filling up,I left my passenger-side door open and went to open the trunk to retrieve something from my bag.  Whatever it was, feel down into the emergency tire cavity.  I was up to my elbow trying to get my hands on the object, when an Israeli woman came up to me to ask me something. Realizing that I only spoke English, she walked away, but returned a moment later at the wheel of her car, careening around the corner, only a narrow inch from my open passenger door, to get to an available gas pump. She then made the miscalculation of pulling up on the wrong side of her gas tank, but this didn't stop her.  She hauled the pump and hose over her car's roof to attach to her gas tank.  I couldn't believe the effort that she had dedicated to being impatient and incompetency. But it seems this is a pretty common trend in Israel.  I don't think anyone really knows what side their gas tank is on.    

Typically, I come away from each car pool adventure feeling connected and inspired. One day I was trying to get to the cooperative via bus, but had not heard the news that there was a bus strike that day and random local lines were not running.  Particularly, the 412 line, which I needed.  I wasn't traveling alone, another was en route with me and because of that, we made the decision to try to catch a ride as we walked in the direction of the kibbutz. Almost as soon as I held out two fingers pointed down, a car pulled over. Three Ethiopian women and a baby peered out and motioned to the both of us to hop into the one free seat. No one spoke English, and there was only one seat available, but we all scrunched in together and smiled as we made the drive towards the kibbutz.  We made it safely in one piece, thanked our driver and passengers for their generosity.  

The people continue to surprise and impress me with their altruism, openness and ability to sum up the world around them so succinctly. I might use 100 words to convey a concept, an Israeli would use 10 words and they'd capture the concept completely. They're hardened and capable, no emotions are worn on their sleeves, yet they're warm and welcoming and you're always greeted with a hug, kiss and asked if you're hungry. 

So there's this really interesting dual psychology going on between being in cars and out of cars with Israelis.  When you're inside their cars with them and can share the same obstacles and conundrums, you'll note their generosity and openness and you truly appreciate and admire them.  But when you're peering in their window from another car trying to figure out why the fuck they would decide to merge lane now, that you really can't understand what is going on in their heads.  

Five months under my belt in Israel and I still walk that line constantly.  I'm not sure Israelis even know what it all means.  There's lot to contemplate and try to understand here and maybe it's the weight of all that, which causes the time spent in transport to be such an introspective and ridiculous experience!

Possible Titles for my Time Spent in Israel Thus Far

Because humor is the best medicine and I'm a sarcastic person. 

1. 50 shades of brown [my personal favorite]

2. A deluge of ants at midnight 

3. It's raining again, so the entire country has shut down 

4. Did you know that Jordan is right over there? 

5. I love the smell of cat piss in the morning

6. You will like Cremebo, or else

7. Lines are for the weak willed 

8. How many cats can fit in a dumpster?

9. Why park in a designated parking spot when the sidewalk is available?

10. GTA and Nicki Manaj: educators for the youth of tomorrow

11. No, you can't just yell out the N word. 

12. Messi or Ronaldo? The answer to this question will decide your entire fate   

13. W is for W.W.E. 

14. I'm not from England, but thank you

15. That's weird, no one asked me personal questions about my love life today 

16. Dude, that Arsim haircut is on point 

17. You're 10 years old and do not need my Instagram

18. Cat on a hot metal dumpster 

19. Hannah and the Israelites [Ron's personal favorite]

20. I'll be there in seven minutes!!! 

A Parting of Ways

I have some very important news to share with you all. 

As of this past Monday, I am no longer a part of the teaching program in Beit She'an through MASA.  I made the difficult decision to leave the program after a lot of thinking on my part and conversations with the coordinators.  It was a mutual agreement.  

It's no secret that for a long time I have not been happy living in Beit She'an and I have a had a lot of challenges and struggled with problematic situations while teaching.  I was becoming very discontent and negative, which is not a person I want to be seen as, nor project into the world.  There was a vast difference from my demeanor when I arrived on this program, and how I was behaving and feeling over the last few weeks. When you embark on this sort of experience, there's the expectation that you will change, but I was backsliding and not changing for the better and was very unhappy; furthermore, my heart was really not in the work I was doing.  

Just last Wednesday (Dec. 30) I traveled to Tel Aviv with my Beit She'an coordinator to talk about my exasperation with the Tlalim Director of Pedagogical Programs.  My goal was to have a peaceful and assuring discussion on my experiences thus far, and come away from the meeting feeling that I had communicated with someone in the organization my desire to have a better quality experience. We discussed my time teaching in the schools, as well as living in the town itself and my struggle to find a place in the community and foster a Jewish identity in a place where I felt the definition was very narrow and stifling.  

We both came to the agreement that it was not a positive fit for me to be in Beit She'an. The objective of this program and being in this town was for the both of us to positively benefit from the relationship and opportunity and that simply was not being fulfilled on either end.  I chose to give up 10 months of life and invested in coming here to teach in Beit She'an, but I was not having an experience that was giving me direction and purpose.  

I was clear on the fact that I did want to stay in Israel; there's still so much more in this country that I want to learn and experience, so to me, to just going home was not something that I wished to do.  

In the meeting, we discussed other ways for me to stay in Israel and do a different program, but like most things in life, the options that were proposed were limited by either money or time.  I've been volunteering for the past four months and that doesn't exactly result in stock options, or 401Ks. Tlalim said that they would look into the possibility of finding a program that was "free", but that didn't leave me a large sense of hopefulness.

Things NEVER happen fast in Israel, but this time they did.  As I was still turning things over in my head and brainstorming ideas and possibilities, I got word that MASA had decided to take me off their roster as of Monday, January 11.  So that basically made the decision for me.  

Getting this new was very climatic - at the same time, Ron and I were stuck in traffic and trying to accomplish 1,000 things: him getting to a bank and a meeting and me trying to go to a MASA conference in Jaffa.  The traffic had us at a standstill and the car's gas tank was in the red.  It was a very stressful and aggravating moment.  

Thriving on the energy of the situation, I jumped into action; all the ideas that I had come up with in my brainstorms were now possibilities, so I began making calls and emails like a whirling durbish.   

I was still tense and anxious when Ron dropped me off at the hotel in Jaffa and I went to my MASA conference on Leadership. It seemed like the last place I should be at that time.  Not one to ignore irony, I tried to get out of my field experience session, but the organizers would have none of it, so I wound up on a bus feeling overwhelmed and agitated.  I'm not sure if you could actually sense the air buzzing around me, but another conference goer suggested that I listen to a meditation app on his phone.  The universe tends to work in mysterious ways, and I think that was one of them since it helped me calm down a lot.

Over  the next couple of days, I slowly began to come up with a plan and then once the conference ended and I returned to Beit She'an, I've been able to make things happen.

On to greener pastures

Firstly, and most excitingly, I will be staying in Israel, for the time being.  
Dr. Uri Chissick and his co-workers at the Institute decided to hire me on as a full time volunteer.  I will be working with them at their facilities on the kibbutz for the next couple of weeks.  I will be involved in 1) foraging tours, 2)cooking and concocting spices, teas, vegan cheeses and spreads as well as fermentation, and 3) working on the Institutes media materials in English so we can better explain and represent the work we do there

Afterwards, I have a couple more ideas of what I will do and where I will go that make me feel really optimistic and curious. Currently, I'm living in this wonderful state of spontaneity and possibility -  it's at times frightening, and at others very inspiring and free.  Since making this decision, there's been a notable change in my body and mind.  I'm standing taller and my eyes look clearer; a couple people have even remarked upon it as well, so I think that if the positive adjustment is that apparent, I'm very confident in this decision. 

I have a lot of choice words and feelings on the whole experience of living in Beit She'an, but ever since coming to this conclusion, they've fallen away and become moot.  So things haven't turned out exactly as planned, but without this experience I would not have had the opportunity to fall in love with someone, or be inspired and driven to seek out new options for learning and experiencing that I had never before considered.  

So long and thanks for all the fish

Throughout my time in Israel, I've been lucky enough to cross paths with a good many people, who have been encouraging and supportive of me finding my way to be happy in where I am and what I do.  I'm happy that I've been so fortunate, so I don't feeling isolated and helpless making this decision to try something new and a little against the grain.  Thank you for the support and confidence!  

So darlings, let's be adventurous and see what happens.  I've got food in my belly, a roof over my head and work that inspires and my heart is in.  

________________________________________________________

"What do you fear, lady?' he asked
'A cage,' she said.  "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."

- Eowyn, House of Eorl

The Return of the King

J.R.R. Tolkein

__________________________________________________________